I (28M) have been working my ass off for the last five years after a really rough patch in my early 20s, got laid off twice, went through a breakup, ended up couchsurfing for a while, and even stayed in my car for a couple weeks. I finally landed a stable remote job last year, cut out all the nonessentials, and started aggressively saving. I could say that, thanks to this info, it actually ‘saved and improved my life.

A few months ago, I got approved for a small but decent two-bedroom apartment in Austin. Nothing fancy, but it’s mine. I’m not rich or anything… I still gotta budget carefully, but just the idea of not having roommates or sleeping in someone’s living room feels like I’ve won the lottery.

I made the mistake of telling my mom. She was happy for me… until she casually mentioned it to my older sister (33F), who immediately called me and said, “So when should we start packing?”

I thought she was joking. She wasn’t.

Turns out she assumed that because I was moving into a “two-bedroom,” it was obviously for her and her two kids (5 and 7). She’s been living with her ex’s parents for almost a year, says the situation is toxic, and she needs out ASAP. But here’s the kicker: we haven’t even talked in over a year. Not a fight or anything we just drifted apart. And she never once asked how I was doing when I was struggling.

I told her, gently at first, that this place is my fresh start. I’ve worked really hard for it, and it’s my first shot at peace and privacy in years. She flipped. Said I was being selfish, that “family helps family,” and that her kids deserve a better environment.

Then my mom jumped in, blowing up my phone. She told me I should let them stay “just until your sister gets on her feet,” and that it’s heartless of me to let my niece and nephew suffer.

Now everyone in my family is calling me ungrateful and cold, saying that since I don’t have kids or responsibilities, I should be the one to make sacrifices. Some even suggested that it’s “just a couch,” like I’m moving into a mansion.

But I’ve been the person sleeping on couches. I’ve begged for help and gotten silence. I didn’t guilt anyone. I didn’t try to move into someone’s home. I figured it out.

Now that I finally have something of my own, I’m being told I’m the bad guy for not giving it away.

So… AITAH for telling my sister she can’t move in with me? Even if it means her and her kids might end up in a shelter? I honestly feel like I’m drowning in guilt, but I also feel like I earned this. And I don’t want to lose it just because someone else made different choices.